


Run.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: As much as Loki pretends to skirt the rules, he knows he hasn't got the power to do so.





	Run.

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous: Fic promt: Sombody touches Loki and the Grandmaster is not happy

“Hey! Cape boy!” Loki turns on his heel, and within a second the man grabbing at his shoulder is bent backwards over Loki’s knee, one elbow twisted painfully over his head, and he is gasping out desperate little sounds of pain, frozen in Loki’s grip. 

“My name is Loki,” he says delicately. “What, pray, was your enquiry?” The guy is letting out a low groan of pain, and he is mumbling desperate apologies where he cannot quite writhe under Loki’s tight grip, even as his bones  _crack_  beneath his flesh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m sorry,  _please_ , lemme go–” Loki releases him, and the guy scrambles away from him, clutching his forearm to his chest and nursing the pained bone. “I was just trying to get your attention, man.”

“You have it now,” Loki murmurs, his smile  _saccharinely_  sweet. Around them, the party continues on - why should it stop for a scuffle? “Why did you need it?” He’s seen this man before - a scrapper who has formed his leisure with grasping hands, trying to act as one of high society without truly  _becoming_  a member. Loki isn’t the first man he’s tried to pick a fight with. 

“Sorry,” he repeats again, and he turns away… Directly into the paw of one of the Grandmaster’s guards. The guard is tall, yellow-furred with mighty, slavering jaws, and the scrapper stares up at him with evident fear. Loki turns his head to look at the Grandmaster, whose lips are pressed loosely together, and whose gaze is dark. “I’m sorry! I said I was sorry to him,  _please_ , Grandmaster–” The Grandmaster waves his hand, and Loki watches as the scrapper’s neck  _cracks_  to the side, collapsing to the ground, and Loki sighs, impassively. He forces his heart to still in his chest, not letting his breathing speed, not letting his fear show on his face.

The room is silent, the music having stopped, and Loki says, softly, “Thank you, Grandmaster.”

“No one touches my things,” the Grandmaster replies. “Proceed.” The music begins again, a thrumming beat sounding through Loki’s very chest, and Loki takes a step toward the other man, reaching out, touching his chest through the opening of his robe. The Grandmaster smiles, reaching for Loki’s hand, but Loki withdraws it immediately.

The Grandmaster’s lips part, showing  _surprise_ , and Loki meets his gaze evenly.

“Do I look like I need someone to fight my battles for me?”

“Do I look like I, ah,  _care_? Rules are rules, Loki.”

“Oh, alright,” Loki murmurs, reaching up and undoing his cape. It drops to the floor in an ungainly heap, and Loki begins to step away. “I’m going to go break some rules  _right now_ , and, ah, I don’t think your guards can stop me.”

“Can’t they?” the Grandmaster asks, and Loki smiles.

“Oh no,” Loki replies. “Someone  _bigger_  would need to step in. Someone with more, ah,  _power_ … Know anyone like that?” the Grandmaster steps over Loki’s cape, slowly advancing, but Loki is already running, running, running. This is part of the game, after all - pursuit and capture.

And when the Grandmaster finally catches him, when Loki’s legs are weak from running and the Grandmaster holds him by his hair,  _Norns_ , the fear on his face could easily be mistaken for excitement. Easily. Easily! You can run from nearly  _anything_ , if you do it right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out [my Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com) for more, or if you want to send in a request.


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